


Twenty Stones

by Keolah



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Drama, Dreams, Elves, F/M, Murder, Mystery, Original Universe, Poison, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1997-09-24
Updated: 1997-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 02:56:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keolah/pseuds/Keolah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The noble family of Gryphonshire is being murdered one by one. Can the assassin be found before the entire family is wiped out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twenty Stones

**First Stone**

Winter snow lay heavy on the ground as grief lay on their hearts. The people of Gryphonshire stood silent in the chill, heads bowed, to pay their respects to the late duke. Tanathyn Gryphon had been a good man, though few remembered what had been good about him any longer.

The duke's body lay peacefully composed, a wreath of purple flowers entwined in his night-black hair. Those near him could almost bring themselves to believe that their beloved ruler was merely dreaming but for the brown edges of his leafy crown and the wilting of his violet wreath. This was the mark of his nobility, for whenever a noble child was born in Adra, the mother placed a wreath of flowers about its head. Each clan had its own type and color of flower, one of its symbols. The flower of the Gryphon clan was the purple iris. These flowers faded only with the fading of their bearer. 

Tiger was not staring at the ground, as the other nobles were. He was an active, sinewy youth of the clan Gryphon and sixteenth or so in line to be duke of Gryphonshire. Most called him Paltharan, but early on he had earned the name of Tiger by his ferocity and the odd coloring of his hair. He usually prefered not to pay attention to those who called him Paltharan. 

He had never been fond of funerals, since they were depressing. Why keep company with the dead when the living are far more interesting? Nobody even told him how old Grandpa Tanny had died, and they glared scandalized at him if he even dared to ask. What was the point of even being here if they cringed at the mention of the old duke's name? 

Quietly, Tiger wove his way toward the front of the crowd. This way he would be able to discern Tanathyn Gryphon's last thoughts. It was a form of telepathy unique to a few in and near Gryphonshire. 

Finally, the boy came into sight of his late grandfather and was able to activate the magic. He reached toward the spirit of Tanathyn and gently touched his thoughts. After several long minutes of intense concentration, he at last could hear the duke's fading voice. 

_What has been done to me? Which of my kin desires power so much that he would stoop to poisoning me? I will not be the last to fall ere winter comes again. Assassin! Why do you taunt me like this? You will never rule Gryphonshire, foolish man, so long as even one of the clan Gryphon remains alive! Twenty stones in the cemetery. My enemy is of the clan Sadidah. Paltharan, is that you? Run, Tiger. Hide yourself, that you may live. You will be the last of the clan Gryphon and the first of the next generation._

Choking back his tears, Tiger fell to his knees before the remains of his grandfather. "I will do as you say, Grandpa," he whispered. "And when I find the one who has done this to you, I will avenge you." 

Unable to stop himself, the tears flowed freely from his eyes. He vaguely remembered hands comforting him, but he did not want to be comforted. Finally he surrendered to their comfort and let himself cry.

* * *

Avidly polishing his sword, Tiger was sitting in his chambers when his sister entered. Asrian Gryphon was a sight to make eyes sore. Her hair was a mass of tangles and her eyes puffy and bloodshot. Her dress looked as if it had lain in a stable for a month then was put on backwards. 

"Tiger, what are you doing?" she inquired. Intentionally, she kept her eyes averted from the sword. 

"Thinking," he replied, then shrugged noncommitally. 

"With your sword? I know you men always think with your weapons, but do you really need your sword to think?" 

"I know some things about you women that you would like to keep secret," Tiger pointed out, looking at his sword instead of his sister. 

"Like what?" she challenged. Asrian seated herself indaintily on a stool. 

"Those wierd rituals, first of each month at Cleryn's Clearing." 

Asrian jumped up and grabbed Tiger by the collar. "How did you find out about that?" she growled. 

"I sneak around a lot at night. I can never sleep more than three hours at a time, you know, so I explore for a while until I get tired again." 

"Did you tell anyone else?" demanded the woman. 

"No," admitted Tiger. "Why should I bother? Frankly, I don't care what you do in the wilderness in the middle of the night." 

Asrian dropped him roughly, and he winced. "You can never understand us, baby brother. Women are more savage than men will ever be, and you have to accept that before you can begin to accept us. We are the daughters of fire, and we dance in our minds with the sun and the stars. I have foresworn strong drink, as have many women, for it clouds the mind and makes it dull. Face it, Paltharan. My mind is sharper than yours could hope to be. Strong you may think yourself, but never dare to underestimate us." 

With that, Asrian stormed out of the room. Tiger rubbed his neck and muttered, "I may be brave, but I'm not fool enough to insult a woman." He did think her a trifle overdramatic, but he was too busy nursing his wounds to care. Asrian had dropped him onto his sword. 

* * *

**Second Stone**

That was the last time he ever saw his sister alive.

This time his conversation with the dead revealed a much different situation. Asrian had not fallen for the poison, so the assassin had gone at her with a knife and tried to stab her in the back, but the woman had swirled around and landed a solid kick in a sensitive region of the attacker's anatomy. Infuriated, the assassin threw a knife at her, and she was too close to dodge effectively. The knife missed any vital organs and lodged itself in Asrian's gut. When Asrian fell unconscious, the attacker had assumed his job done and fled. 

It was the maid who was the true cause of Asrian's death. Upon seeing the young noblewoman's prostrate form, she immediately screamed and dropped her broom. Rushing to the aid of her mistress, the maid jerked the blade free, causing extensive damage. Panicking, the young servant called for a healer, but Asrian Gryphon bled to death before the clerics could arrive. 

She was laid to rest beside Tanathyn. The second stone was placed. 

Asrian charged him to find the Gryphonslayer and bring him to justice. 

"Yes, my beloved sister, I do swear it. I will hunt down this evil man. The clan Sadidah will never rule Gryphonshire so long as I yet live!" 

During those few moments that he spoke to Asrian's shade, his face was terrible to behold. A gardener near him later told, "It seemed as though the boy were possessed by demons. In his eyes there was a fury that chilled my blood. Were I the assassin, I would flee, even if it meant leaving Daneli altogether, even if it meant leaving the entire Adran Kingdom behind me."

* * *

Tiger took his sword to breakfast the next morning. He ate tacitly with his left hand, keeping his right hand firmly on the hilt of his sword. Many of the Gryphons present briefly looked askance at him, until they recalled yesterday's trajedy. Finally they merely returned to their meal, secure in the fact that Paltharan would take care of any problems that might arise during breakfast. 

The new year came before Paludar Gryphon thought it safe to don the crown of leaves and become Duke of Gryphonshire. Overshadowed by grief and fear, the family reluctantly went through the motions of the ceremony without truly feeling them. Little did they know the extent of their danger. 

Later that same day, Tiger decided to seek out the only Sadidahs he knew were around. Their clan was from another region so there weren't very many in Gryphonshire at any given time. His aunt was married to Memarra Sadidah, so that was a logical place to start. They had been living in Whin but had come up to Gryphonshire during autumn for advice on their daughter's behavior and hadn't left yet. 

"Why, if it isn't little Tiger. My, how you've grown," Aunt Del smiled hollowly at him. "What's on your mind, Tiger?" Memarra had married Tanathyn's elder daughter, Delthasia. 

"I-I was hoping to find Uncle Wolf. Is he around?" inquired the boy. 

"Should be somewhere around here," Delthasia shrugged. Suddenly she let out a howl like a wild animal. Sometimes Tiger thought they took things a little to extremes. 

Her husband sauntered into the room. Memarra was a tallish man with shaggy red-flowered gray hair and a pointed nose who acted more like a wolf than an elf. He sharpened his teeth to points and ate vegetables only when they were hidden in his meat. Mystra was his favorite child, though Aunt Del abhorred her violent, often brutal behavior. Uncle Wolf only seemed to like her better for it. 

"What's on your mind, Paltharan?" Memarra asked gruffly. 

It couldn't have been Uncle Wolf who killed Tanathyn and Asrian, Tiger thought fervently, as if thinking so would acquit Memarra. Well, there was one way to find out for sure. 

Looking directly into Wolf's eyes, Tiger attempted to discern any telltale guilt that would identify him as the assassin. Unable to find any, the boy was not yet convinced of Memarra's innocence. 

Internally screaming with frustration, he replied in a strangled voice, "Nothing. Nothing at all." Tiger fled from the chamber. The sense of evil there was almost tangible. Something in or near that room was so evil that he reeled from the feeling. 

Was Memarra the killer? If every one of the Gryphons fell, and if Delthasia fell last, Uncle Wolf would certainly be the next duke. Tiger cared too much about his kin to discount the possibility. 

* * *

**Third Stone**

Watching his cousins play in the courtyard, Tiger brought himself to realize that he would see each one of them die and be unable to do anything about it. It was a painful revelation, and it didn't make losing them any easier.

The elder two, Arsathia and Tanthalas, were separated from the rest of the group while they practiced with their swords. Almost accidentally, Arsathia's sword grazed her brother's cheek, and it bit deeply enough to draw a drop of blood. Tanthalas, irritated, sheathed his sword and left the courtyard. 

"How about you, Tiger?" Arsathia adressed him. "Or are you too chicken?" 

Shrugging, he stood and drew his sword. 

Arsathia was likely the best swordfighter at Gryphon Estate, but Tiger was determined to learn a few things from her before she too met the same fate as Tanathyn and Asrian. 

Suddenly, they heard a scream. Swords in hand, they went toward the sound, even though both of them knew it would be too late. 

There wasn't even an ominous shadow hiding nearby when Arsathia found her brother's body. Tanthalas had been attacked from behind and hadn't even had a chance to draw his sword. 

The third stone was placed.

* * *

Tiger went to speak to his father. Palevar Gryphon was Paludar's second child. He was a good man, though he could be extremely stubborn and his views were decidedly conservative at times. 

"What's going on, son?" inquired Palevar. Paltharan saw in his eyes a mingling of grief and fury. If anyone would help find the assassin, Palevar would. 

"I have to stop the assassin," the boy managed to say. "Before he annihilates our entire clan." 

His father nodded gravely. "Have you any idea who it is?" 

"Sadidah," answered the boy. "The assassin is of the clan Sadidah." 

"How did you find this out?" Palevar pressed. 

"I have spoken with Tanathyn and Asrian," Tiger responded quietly. 

"Necromancy!" 

"It isn't necromancy." 

"Yes, son, it is. Conversing with the dead is necromancy! Haven't I warned you about that?" snapped his father. 

"I know, I know, but it is for a good cause," he sighed. "I have only done it twice. I haven't spoken to Tanthalas yet." 

"Don't! You've already done enough damage. You've disturbed the rest of the dead." 

"They will have no rest until the killer is brought to justice," Tiger told him. 

Palevar appeared to struggle with some inner conflict, then he said, "Go, son. Go speak to Tanthalas, find out what you can about the Gryphonslayer. You are doing the right thing. Don't let me hinder you." 

"Thank you, father," whispered the boy. "You have no idea how much this means to me." For as long as he could remember, he had striven for his father's approval when he truly didn't care if he had the approval of any others. Now, at the end, his father had finally approved of him. It was the dream he had never hoped could come true. He embraced his father and slipped out of the room, and even such commonplace movements were like the steps of a single dancer in some great incomprehensible dance. 

Arsathia was sitting in the grass before Tanthalas's stone when Tiger arrived. This stone was bare. His cousin did not seem to notice his presence, so he came to stand before Tanthalas's remains and activated the magic. 

Tiger, my kinsman, I am so glad to see you. He was one with the shadows, a slight, silent figure. I didn't see him until it was too late. Sadidah, Tiger. Be wary of all Sadidahs. Will you find him, Tiger? Will you bring him to justice? 

"Yes, Tanthalas," whispered the boy. "I will, if it is the last thing I do. I will not let this act go unpunished. I swear it." 

Tanthalas had been the brother he'd never had, and his loss was a hard blow to Tiger. 

"I'm with you, Tiger," spoke a voice, and he recognized it a moment later as Arsathia's. 

"Let's go," he suggested. "We have an assassin to find." 

* * *

**Fourth Stone**

In silence, Tiger and Arsathia returned to Palevar's chamber to tell him what Tanthalas had added.

Tiger opened the door and looked around for his father, and he didn't see him until he looked to the chair behind the door. Palevar often sat in that chair because it was the only place in the room where he could look out the window and see the peak of Mount Gryphon. 

A shattered goblet lay on the floor in a pool of red liquid. The chair Palevar loved so much was broken and splintered. Between them lay Tiger's father, his purple flowers already wilting. 

"No," whispered the boy in disbelief. "No, no, not my father. No!" 

He fell to his knees and wept shamelessly. 

The fourth stone was placed. 

"This isn't blood," noted Arsathia. "It's wine. Uncle Pal must have been poisoned." 

His cousin had an odd note in her voice, as if she had suspended emotion in a desperate attempt to reach the truth. 

Tiger hadn't moved since he had seen his father's body. Finally Arsathia managed to take him out to the cemetery so that he might speak to Palevar's shade. 

He finally realized that days had passed while he was trying to come to terms with his father's death. The servants had made sure he was fed, but the wasted time had brought him no closer to the identity of the assassin. In sheer determination, he steeled himself against grief so that he could locate the killer and make him pay for what he was doing. 

Concentrating, the youth contacted his father's spirit. 

_I sent the maid to bring me some wine, but I didn't know it was poisoned until it was too late. I don't think the maid is at fault here, though. Someone we trust is responsible for this. My son, my son, Paltharan. You must find this man. You must keep him from ever becoming Duke of Gryphonshire._

"Yes, father," uttered Tiger. "I will find the one who has done this to you, and I will make sure he pays for what he has done. I swear it." 

Arsathia squeezed his hand, conveying a love too deep for words, that not even death could break. 

"I'm with you, Tiger," she said quietly. "I won't leave you." 

"Where is Grandpa Paludar?" asked Tiger suddenly. 

"In the library, most likely. He has been hiding in his books." 

"I need to talk with him. About Memarra and his children." 

Arsathia nodded and accompanied him. The library at Gryphon Estate was the largest and most extensive in all Krengin, and Paludar loved his books almost more than his family. There was no telling what he was researching now. 

Tiger reached the library door and held it open for his cousin. Paludar was nowhere in sight, but there were plenty of places to hide in the library. Sidestepping bookshelves, Tiger wove his way to the heart of the library. There sat the duke, poring over a massive tome. Hearing his approach, the man looked up and glared hard at Tiger. 

"Traitor!" shouted Paludar, leaping to his feet, his eyes a vision of pure rage. Startled, Tiger froze in his steps. "Assassin! How dare you do this to us? Guards!" 

This was impossible! Tiger tried to speak in his defense, but the words wouldn't come out. To think that the duke thought he was responsible! 

"Only you could benefit from Asrian's death!" screamed Paludar irrationally. "Monster! How could you kill your own father?" 

"Grandpa, I didn't-" 

"Don't call me that!" snapped his grandfather. "I am no kin of a murderer." 

"Grandpa, Paltharan is not the assassin," Arsathia came to his rescue. "I was with him, out in the cemetery, when Uncle Pal died. He could not have been behind that." 

"He put the poison into the bottle. He knows what his father's favorite wine was." 

"We were practicing with our swords in the courtyard when Tanthalas died. Gillestia could tell you that. He wasn't even nearby when we heard the scream." 

Paludar stared furious at Arsathia. "You helped him, didn't you? I will lock both of you up and put you under guard." 

"Who have you named as your successor?" asked Tiger, concerned that Delthasia might become duchess soon. 

"Jeskel. Why? Are you planning on killing me next?" Jeskel was Paludar's eldest child. 

Now the guards arrived. "I killed no one, sir." 

"Would you swear to that?" snarled Paludar. 

"I just did," returned Paltharan. "I am insulted that you think I am the assassin. I would spend a year in your prison under guard if it would prove my innocence. But if you must know, the murderer is of the clan Sadidah." 

"Take him away," he ordered the guards. 

Tiger was paraded into the dungeon, Arsathia shoved in behind him. The iron gate banged shut. He was a prisoner in his own home, locked up by his own family. 

* * *

**Fifth Stone**

The dungeon beneath Gryphon Estate was a cold, dark place, made even colder by the winter outside. That his own family would lock him up hurt more than the knowledge that his clan was slowly, excruciatingly dying. Did they fail to realize their danger?

Two months passed, winter waned into spring, and during that time no Gryphon fell. 

"He is going to extreme measures to place the blame on me," muttered Tiger one day. "The guards have watched us day and night. We haven't left their sight for more than a minute since we were put in here. If I must spend the rest of my life in here to secure the lives of my kin I will gladly do so. He can't wait forever. I'm just waiting for him to make a mistake." 

A breathless page wearing purple irises ran up to the guard. "Release the prisoners! Orders of the duke. Ellenor Gryphon has died." 

The guard grabbed the keys and unlocked the gate. "The duke wishes to see you immediately," added the boy. 

"About time," Tiger said under his breath. "Where is he?" 

"With the others, in the banquet hall." 

The other thirteen Gryphons had been in the banquet hall, he was told, celebrating the coming of spring, when a shadowy figure appeared and threw a knife. He didn't appear to care where it struck. Ellenor, Tanathyn's younger daughter, happened to be in the way. The knife was poisoned. The attacker was hooded, they said, but Gillestia claimed that she saw a red flower under the hood. 

"Paltharan!" called Asrian Ihnarne, his mother, rushing out from the banquet hall. She ran to clasp her son in a heartfelt embrace. "I knew you were innocent, but Paludar just wouldn't listen to reason." 

"I love you, mother," murmured the boy. "At least I won't lose you, too." She herded him into the banquet hall. 

"Red flowers, I tell you," a girl's voice insisted earnestly. "The assassin is of noble blood, and he wears red flowers. I know what I saw. My eyes never lie." 

"We've heard what you say, Gillestia," a male voice told her. 

"He is of the clan Sadidah," added Tiger as he entered. 

"How do you know this?" demanded Jeskel. 

"Would you return me to the dungeon if I told you that I dabble in necromancy?" 

There was a small volcanic eruption of heated argument before Tanathas son of Tanathyn stepped in and said, "Under the circumstances, even necromancy is acceptible. We have to find the assassin through whatever means necessary. I'm sure the dead won't mind their rest disturbed if they can't rest until the killer is found anyway." Tiger liked Tanathas, because he had always been understanding and open-minded, and had an uncanny way of knowing how people felt about things. 

"It couldn't have been Memarra," Delthasia pointed out. "He was sitting next to me when the killer came in." 

"Where is Spark?" asked Tiger. "Has he been told yet?" Spark was Ellenor's only child, the illegitimate son of a farmer. 

"Do you think Spark could be the assassin?" suggested Jeskel. 

"It's entirely possible," said Tanathas reluctantly admitted. He was rather fond of the boy, and, unlike Paludar, completely supported him. 

"No, he can't be," argued Gillestia. "He wears purple flowers, not red, and the killer was shorter than him, and of lighter build." 

"All praise the eyes of Gillestia," Palanthas son of Tanathas said half-sarcastically. 

"Hear, hear," agreed Arsathia, supporting her sister. 

"Then who is the assassin?" wondered Jeskel. 

"Now that's the million gold question," commented Tiger. "Who is the assassin?" 

"Round up everyone at Gryphon Estate wearing red flowers," ordered Paludar. "Under the circumstances, as Tanathas pointed out, I don't think that is uncalled for. Tiger, contact Ellenor's spirit and determine anything you can about the assassin and the Sadidah clan. Never be alone." With that, Paludar left the hall, a heavy burden on his heart: the knowledge that he had wronged one who was trying to help. 

* * *

**Sixth Stone**

Tiger learned nothing new from Ellenor, but he again swore to find the killer and bring him to justice.

All the red-flowered nobles at Gryphon Estate were gathered in the courtyard, some more irritated than others. Most of them understood the need, however, so they kept their grumbling to a minimum. 

"Where's Mystra?" asked Jeskel. "I thought she was somewhere around here." 

"I do not know where she is," replied Memarra. "I think she said she was going back to Whin." 

"If she has left the estate she can't be the assassin," Jeskel deduced, scratching her off his list. "And you can't be either, since both Gillestia and Delthasia insist that you were sitting at the table when the attacker entered." 

Wolf nodded gravely. He was glad to be proven innocent. 

"Jeskel! Jeskel!" called a breathless Gryphon boy. "I can't find Gillestia anywhere." 

"Do you know where she was seen last?" 

"Th-the garden, I think," he puffed. 

"Stay here, Palas. Catch your breath. Come with me, Paltharan," requested Jeskel. "I have a bad feeling about this." 

As fast as they could, the two raced to the garden. "The apple grove," Tiger said. Magically enspelled to produce fruit at all times of the year, the apple grove was Gillestia's favorite place, where she often went to think. Jeskel nodded and hurried in that direction. Their treads fell rapidly on the winding paths. They were too late. 

"Gillestia," whispered Tiger. 

There lay the beautiful elven girl, her irises wilting, a half-eaten apple near her motionless hand. The inside of the apple was brown. 

Jeskel picked up the apple and smelled it. "Poison. I should have known." He plucked another apple from the tree and cut it in two with his belt knife. "This one's poisoned too. He must have poisoned every apple in the grove, assuming someone would eventually eat one. Oh, Gillestia, why did it have to be you?" 

"We have to tell the others," Tiger said quietly. 

Jeskel nodded gravely and returned with Tiger to the courtyard. "None of these people are necessarily innocent," he told Tiger. "One could have poisoned the fruit a month ago, and none of us would be the wiser." 

Arsathia approached them. "We decided to release Memarra and the others who were in the banquet hall. These are the ones left." She handed him a list. 

Jeskel scanned over it. "You can eliminate those who are not of the clan Sadidah," Tiger pointed out. 

"Paltharan, there isn't anyone on this list who is of the clan Sadidah," Jeskel told him. 

"Then the people on that list are innocent," he asserted. "Tanathyn himself told me that the assassin was a Sadidah, and some of the others confirmed that, but none denied it." 

"Brand," Jeskel addressed a passing guard. "Have some people go into the apple grove and take Gillestia's body to the cemetery." 

Brand nodded and continued on his way. 

"Are you sure this couldn't be someone impersonating a Sadidah?" inquired Jeskel. 

"I don't think so," responded the boy. "My father told me that someone we trust is responsible for this. From what they have told me, the assassin aspires to become duke of Gryphonshire, and he can only accomplish that by murdering every last one of us." 

"How do the dead know these things?" wondered Arsathia. 

"Those who have left this world have ways of knowing things we couldn't even begin to comprehend," he explained. 

"This man is too good," muttered Jeskel. "How can we guard against an unknown, unseen enemy?" 

"How many people around here can recognize the Sadidah flower?" asked Tiger. 

Jeskel shook his head. "I really don't know. Probably some, at least, since Memarra's family visits occasionally. He is the only Sadidah currently at Gryphon Estate, and he has a watertight alibi, since everyone saw him at the spring banquet." 

Tiger looked at the handful of people with roses, tulips, or azaleas in their hair. "Let them go, Jeskel. These people didn't do anything, and keeping them here will only make things worse." 

Jeskel sighed. "You're probably right, Paltharan. I hate to admit it, but I am afraid. Who knows who will be next?" 

* * *

**Seventh Stone**

Jeskel didn't live out the month.

He was found in his chamber with a knife protruding from his chest. The clerics said that his fingers were broken, so he must have put up a fight. 

The seventh stone was placed. 

_Paltharan, you were right. The assassin is a Sadidah. I could not save myself, but I did mark him for you. Before he stabbed me, I broke his nose. Find this broken-nosed killer, Paltharan. Find him. I refuse to rest before the Gryphonslayer pays for his crimes._

"Yes, Jeskel. I will find the assassin. I will avenge your murder and grant you rest. I swear it." 

Spark arrived at Gryphon Estate on the first of Fluriana. 

"I heard about what's been happening, Tiger. Is there anything I can do to help?" 

Spark's mother Ellenor had never been married. His father was a farmer who refused to admit any relationship between them, so the Gryphons had claimed him as one of them. Spark and Tiger had grown up together and were close friends. 

"We'd be eternally grateful for any help you could give us in stopping this man," Tiger told him. "Arsathia is completely stumped, and I can't find any evidence pointing to any individual. I know that the assassin is a Sadidah, but the only one of that clan at Gryphon Estate could not possibly have been the killer." 

"How many have been killed?" inquired Spark. 

"Seven. Including you, there are thirteen Gryphons left alive," Tiger told him. "Gryphon was never a very large clan to begin with, since Tanathyn was an only child and he had no uncles." 

"I can't believe this is happening. The Gryphons are good people. What do you know about the assassin?" 

"He is short, of light build, has a broken nose, and is of the clan Sadidah." 

"That should pretty much narrow things down," Spark commented, impressed. "Sadidah. Isn't their flower the red impatiens?" 

"Few people around here even know what impatiens looks like," Tiger commented wryly. "Where exactly have you been recently?" 

"Cantrip. There were several Sadidahs there, since the towns are right near each other." 

Tiger didn't bother asking what Spark was doing in Cantrip. He suddenly remembered that the women were meeting in Cleryn's Clearing tonight, and he intended to find out what they were doing out there. 

"Does Paludar yet live?" asked Spark. 

"Yes. He's now our duke." 

"Where is he now?" 

"Knowing him, the library," sighed Tiger. Spark started walking away. "Where are you going?" 

"The library. Are you coming?" 

Tiger shrugged and followed him. He was not looking forward to another encounter with Paludar. Reluctantly, he entered the library and tried to keep up with Spark as the older boy wove his way to the heart of the library. Technically, Spark was younger than Tiger, but he was only half-elven so he matured twice as quickly, making him seem the older of the two. 

"Go away," snarled Paludar. "I'm busy." 

"We're Spark and Tiger. We need to speak with you," Spark announced. 

"What do you want?" Paludar demanded rudely without looking up. 

"Who have you named as your successor?" 

"Tanathas. What business is that of yours, bastard?" 

Spark, never one to lose his temper, ignored that comment. "I have learned from a reliable source that your death is planned for the summer solstice." 

"What!?" shouted Paludar, leaping to his feet in a maelstrom of parchment. "That can't be true. You're a lying little bastard. Get out of my sight and begone from this house." 

"Then you seal your own death, Paludar Gryphon." With that, Spark strode proudly from the library.

* * *

Tiger woke at midnight and slipped out of the house, creeping through the rough terrain like a cat. He headed due north and soon arrived at Cleryn's Clearing. A gathering of women there shouted and hollared like a berzerking warband. 

"All praise Anerreshar!" cried one group. They formed a circle around a little gold figurine. It had ruby eyes, and it appeared to have wings, horns, four arms, and a tail. 

Now the women started chanting something thoroughly unintelligible. At this point Tiger thought it was a good time to leave, since whatever this was here obviously didn't involve him. He slipped back through the forest and returned to his room, but he couldn't help thinking, What if there's more to this than meets the eye? 

* * *

**Eighth Stone**

Spark stayed out in the garden, since Paludar had ordered the servants to refuse him entrance. For Spark it was a second rejection. Tiger and Arsathia brought him food and talked with him, though. They were the peaceful shepherds who could not stop their flock from being devoured one by one.

Later that month, the guards found the body of Palas Gryphon, a mere child, stabbed to death in his bed. Palas never saw his attacker. He wasn't even certain what had happened. He was the youngest victim yet claimed. 

The eighth stone was placed. 

This was the last straw for Arsathia, the final blow that released her, unbound her, and forced her into action. "I'm gonna go to Kanath. The King of Daneli cannot just stand by and let this happen. Are you coming with me or not?" 

The boys half-heartedly agreed. They believed that asking for outside assistance was an admition that they couldn't handle the problem themselves, and being male they didn't want to do that. Arsathia was right, however. 

"Do you think we should tell anyone we're going?" asked Tiger. He wouldn't even mention the name of Paludar, and hoped morbidly that the assassin hurried up and killed him. Tiger would rather have seen Paludar dead than poor little Palas. 

"Blast it," muttered Spark. "It's starting to rain. Snow I can stand, but rain is just-ugh!" 

"Let's get you inside," Tiger said. "We won't be doing any travelling today anyway." 

"But that jerk of a duke won't let me inside!" protested Spark. 

"Nonsense," Arsathia scoffed. "I'll challenge him myself if I have to. He can't expect you to stay out here in this weather." 

"I wish that assassin would hurry up and kill him," grumbled Tiger. 

"Not until the Summer Festival he won't. He wants to make sure a lot of people see their duke die." 

"Why?" wondered Tiger. "And how do you know this?" 

"I have my ways. As to why, I'd suggest you ask him yourself. I certainly wouldn't be stupid enough to ask. He's got me high enough on his list as it is." 

"He's gonna kill you too?" asked Tiger incredulously. 

"You better believe it." 

"Then why do you hold back?" 

"Hold back?" Spark raised an eyebrow. 

"You're not telling me everything, kinsman. Why?" 

"I can't. He has ways of ensuring my silence during life." 

"During life." Tiger sat dejectly on a cold bench. "With my necromancy skills, I could learn all that information you're holding back, but if you told me now you might save us a lot of pain and suffering." 

"I've been enspelled to silence, Tiger," Spark told him. "I couldn't tell you even if the world depended upon it." 

"Enspelled to silence," gasped Tiger. "Oh, Spark, why didn't you say so before?" 

"It never came up. You never asked," Spark went through an entire list of excuses and rationalizations without really saying anything. 

They reached the back door that led to the garden and crammed inside. A guard immediately appeared to challenge Spark's entrance, but Arsathia stopped him. 

"Do you expect the poor chap to stay outside in this weather?" she told the guard cordially with an inexplicable kindness. "Now stand aside and let us pass, or we will push you outside and lock the door." She smiled sweetly at the puzzled guard, who shrugged and stood aside. 

"Arsathia," said Tiger. "How do you do it?" 

"It's a woman thing. You wouldn't understand." 

"Just like I didn't understand that little gold figurine with red eyes?" 

Arsathia grabbed his collar. "How did you learn about that?" 

"I have my ways," Tiger grinned at her, trying half-heartedly to worm his way free from her clutches. 

She tightened her grip on his neck. "That was supposed to be secret," she hissed. 

"I know, I know. I suffer from insomnia, or sleepwalking, or s-something, and I wander around in the middle of the night." 

"Right," Arsathia drawled, not believing him for a moment. She dropped him, and he winced. He had fallen onto his sword again. 

* * *

**Ninth Stone**

"Now what?" wondered a frustrated Arsathia.

"This blasted horse-" cried Tiger. "-he doesn't like me." 

"I'm not surprised," commented the girl. "You know nothing about horses. That one happens to be a she." 

"Well, then she's a bitch." 

"No, she's a mare, Tiger. Bitch refers to dogs, not horses." 

Tiger cut off a retort and looked over at Spark. His night black hair whipped furiously in the wind like a wild stallion struggling to break free. 

"How's it going over there, Spark?" 

"Great! How 'bout you?" 

Tiger shifted his position. "I've been better." He was not used to riding horses, and this inexperience was the root of a pain in the posterior. 

"It's getting late," commented Arsathia, glancing up at the darkening sky. "Maybe we should find a place to make camp." 

The boys nodded and scanned the landscape. "That looks like a good place," Spark pointed. 

"If you say so," Tiger shrugged. 

Wearily, the three travellers slid off their steeds and made camp. Tiger was absolutely no help whatsoever. He was virtually helpless on a long journey outside the estate, but Spark's experience helped cover him. Once again Tiger was more grateful to his cousin that he was willing to admit. 

It was Spark who managed to get the fire going. He sent Tiger and Arsathia around for firewood, and when Tiger came back with a log the size of his leg Spark immediately told him to drop it and sit on it. He quietly pointed out that something that size was not likely to get burning anytime soon. Tiger looked downcast, dropped the log, and went off to find something smaller. 

Slashing his way through the foliage with his belt knife, he immediately regretted going along with Arsathia's idea to travel to Kanath. Certainly the idea was a sound one, but when put into action it was easier said than done. 

Arsathia returned to the campfire with an armful of little sticks and twigs, which she dumped near the fire. She heard a rustling somewhere in the trees, and a peasant woman leading a sleek black horse stepped into the light of the fire. 

"Mind if I share your fire, noble travellers?" 

Spark smiled and gestured to the fire. "Not at all, neighbor. We'd be glad for you to share our hospitality." 

Moving slowly, she tied her mount next to the other horses and sat on Tiger's log. Her face illuminated by the orange glow of the fire, they could see that she was dark-skinned and dark-haired, yet had the most striking sky blue eyes. 

Tiger returned just then with a stick longer than he was tall, which he was currently using to help his navigate the foliage. "Is this one good?" 

"For a walking stick, yeah," replied Spark after barely glancing at it. 

He finally sat down on his log and gave up. "Who's our guest?" 

"Ena," she told them. "Of the clan Dilys." 

"So," Tiger poked a stick at the fire and nearly put it out. "What's your story?" 

"Stop it, Tiger," Spark complained, wrenching the stick from the other boy's hand. "If you put that fire out, you get to start it again." 

"I'm from the town of Brent," Ena began. 

"That's just north of here, isn't it?" commented Tiger. 

"Northwest," corrected the peasant woman. "I heard about what's been happening at Gryphon Estate, so I was riding that way to see if my talents would be of any help. It looks like I found the right people." 

Arsathia nodded. "What exactly are your talents?" 

"I can sense evil," Ena replied. "I can feel if there is an evil person within about a mile, and I can tell the direction that person stands from where I do." 

Tiger grinned and clapped the woman on the back, nearly sending her sprawling face-first into the fire. "Ena Dilys, you have no idea how useful that talent will be to us." 

"Thank you," smiled the peasant shyly. "I'm glad I can be of help." 

They spread out their bedrolls and settled in for the night. It was so peaceful out here in the wilderness that Tiger could almost forget the horrors experienced daily up at Gryphon Estate. But then he felt an inexplicable chill wash over him, and he knew instinctively that the assassin had struck again. 

* * *

**Tenth Stone**

The going was slower on the return journey to Gryphon Estate since they were now travelling uphill. Testy and irritated, their horses took every opportunity to balk them, and on top of that it was raining again. The downpour converted their path into a new tributary of the River Rhything. Annoyed, the four were forced to seek another way up the slopes of Mount Gryphon, which inevitably meant a more difficult way.

"We'll never get there at this rate," shouted Arsathia above the roaring rain. "Maybe we should find some shelter. We can wait out this storm." 

"I agree," yelled Spark. 

"We'll have to make our own shelter, it looks like," commented Ena. 

"No, we won't," Spark told her. "I often pass this area, frequently in bad weather. I built a small hut in the lee of that boulder up there." 

Arsathia and Tiger helped him hack a path to the hut, where they gratefully slipped inside. The shelter was large enough to fit all of them. 

"Well," shrugged Tiger. "What now?" 

"We wait out the storm," muttered Arsathia. 

Ena suddenly had an idea. "I know. Let's tell stories." 

"Great idea!" Spark bellowed. "I love stories. Who'll go first?" 

"I will," volunteered Arsathia. "I'll tell you the Legend of the Gryphons." 

Tiger and Spark sat back and relaxed. Both of them had heard this story so many times that they knew it by heart, but Ena couldn't recall ever hearing the tale, so she rested her chin on her fists and her elbows on her knees and listened intently to Arsathia's soothing voice. 

"There once was a man from Leri who journeyed alone to the highlands of Daneli. He saw a great peak covered with winter snows and decided to climb it to see what was at the top. Day and night he struggled through the oppresive wilderness until he came to a flat place halfway up the slope. Here the man stopped to rest. When he began climbing again, he felt refreshed and reassured, even though this stretch of the mountain was much more difficult that his initial climb. He came out of the trees and gazed ahead to the top. It may have been only his weariness clouding his eyes, but ever after he swore that he saw golden gryphons dancing on wings in the blue light of dawn. Peace settled into his soul as he returned to the plateau and created an estate in honor of the gryphons. He named the peak Mount Gryphon, and the plateau Gryphon Estate, and the land around it to the next peak Gryphonshire. Himself he named Allyn Gryphon. He told his children this story, and they told it to their children, until only the story remains. But he also told them, 'When you see a gryphon, you know there is hope.' " 

"I like that story," said Ena, smiling. "Can I go next?" 

Spark, who had somehow gotten a fire going, said, "Please, go ahead." 

"I'll tell you about the Bridge on the Rhything." 

Neither Tiger nor Arsathia had heard this particular story before, though Spark had, and he passed around some bits of food. They had been so excited about finding someone who could help with their search that they had forgotton to eat. The Gryphons sat back and listened to Ena's quiet voice. 

"The River Rhything flows through the heart of Gryphonshire, but for a long time the river was too wild to build a bridge across it. Then a group of farmers and rangers who crossed the river often decided it was time to build a bridge. They pulled huge stones down to the river and tied them in place with enspelled rope. The writhing river did not take kindly to its bonds, so there came a great flood and the magic rope snapped, and the bridge collapsed. The rangers tried to save the stones by tying new ropes around them, but they could not restore the bridge, though now the stones form the only ford in that stretch of the River Rhything." 

Tiger said, "Okay, Spark. It's your turn." 

"No," replied the man. "I've got a good story planned. I want to save it till last. Why don't you go ahead, Tiger?" 

"But I don't know any stories!" protested Tiger. 

"Sure you do," Spark assured him. "Everyone has a story." 

He sighed. "All right. I'll tell you-" he paused a moment to think. "I'll tell you about the time I saw a gryphon." 

No one had heard this story before, and all three of them were curious as to this incident. They huddled together and listened to Paltharan's cadenced voice. 

"It was full summer and I stood in the garden alone, watching and waiting, a feeling of anticipation around me. I climbed the old oak tree to its very top and looked out at the unbroken blue sky. I could see the white peak of Mount Gryphon from there, a beacon in the empty scape. Then a golden figure came soaring into my sight. It had wings and horns and piercing red eyes. Never had I seen so beautiful a creature, and never do I dare to hope to see one again." 

"Did that really happen?" wondered Arsathia. 

Tiger nodded. Spark declared, "Now it's my turn. I will tell you the Tale of the Ruin." 

Each of them sat amazed as Spark's normally crude and wild voice took on qualities few of them knew he could possess. His speech was hypnotic, and his words caused the listeners to see what he was telling. 

"I wandered many seasons in places you probably will never see. There I found a place hidden deep in the inaccessable realm of night, where the wolf howls mournfully calling to its kin and all else is silent. I entered a great ring of monoliths. I noticed that some of these stones supported other stones, some laying entirely on top of others. I counted the stones: I counted twenty stones. When I approached one, I saw a name engraved upon it, and I saw that this name was my own. I read the other stones, and saw that there was a single stone for each member of the clan Gryphon. Then a shadowy figure came flying on wings of darkness and pushed one stone down, then another and another. Nine stones fell before my eyes, and even as I speak, the tenth stone is falling." 

"Was this a dream you had, Spark?" asked Tiger. 

"Yes, in a way," he answered cryptically. Tiger again felt a wash of evil flow over him, and he knew that indeed that the tenth stone had been placed. 

* * *

**Eleventh Stone**

The storm cleared late that night, so the four companions set out at daybreak to make up for lost time. It was the first day of the month of Tavenari. Reaching the estate late that afternoon, they immediately asked a guard what had transpired during their absence.

"Filyrnae and Seline were both poisoned. We found Taliro's body this morning, a knife in his heart." 

"Friends, let us first go to the cemetery," Tiger choked, suppressing his sadness. "I want to find out if they knew anything that might help us." 

"Perhaps we should seek out the assassin without you," suggested Ena. 

He shook his head. "Too risky. There's no telling what could happen to you." 

"I agree," added Spark. "Until Paludar has fallen, we should stick together." 

"I hope Tanathas doesn't die," Arsathia sighed. "He's a good man. I'd hate to lose him. He'd make a far better duke than Paludar." She appeared no more shaken by the death of her brother than she had by anyone else, but things were happening too quickly for her and she wanted this to be over soon. 

Eleven stones lay heavy upon their hearts as they trudged outside to the cemetery. Three bare stones stood proudly watching over the open graves of the fallen Gryphons. They had been dying so quickly that the funeral hadn't even been planned yet. 

Tiger knelt in the wet grass before Filyrnae's remains and activated the magic. This woman didn't even know she had been poisoned. He moved to Seline, who knew only that someone she knew was responsible, but didn't know who. Then he moved down to Taliro, who had been barely older that Palas when he died. 

_Who is there? Tiger? Listen, I must tell you this. The assassin is one who hides by day and comes out only at night. This is a person who is not known to be at Gryphon Estate. Be wary, Paltharan. Do not be afraid to be afraid. Protect yourself, for you may be next. Do not stay here if you can possibly help it._

"Yes, Taliro. I will do as you say. I will avenge you, my kinsman. I swear it." 

He related Taliro's words to the others. 

"And it's turning night now," noticed Arsathia. "Can you conjure food, Spark?" 

The youth nodded. "It's the only way to be sure it's not poisoned." 

"Let's stay in the shed tonight," suggested Tiger. "It's dry and has only one entrance, so if we keep watches the assassin would be stupid to try anything there." 

"Tiger's right," admitted Spark. "As much as I hate hiding from an enemy, there is nothing else we can do tonight." 

"Our deaths would serve no purpose," Arsathia added. "Come morning, we can seek out the assassin and bring an end to this chain of death." 

The night passed without incident and without death. Dawn marched into the highlands almost reluctantly, seeming to sense the strife and evil that prevailed at Gryphon Estate. This day, they would meet death in the face, and one of them would die. 

Four proud figures strode blinking into the sunlight, ready to face the darkness. 

Ena pointed the way, and the others followed. She led them reluctantly, abhorring the feeling of evil, yet she understood the necessity and led them anyway. 

She took them to Delthasia and Memarra's chambers and entered unhesitantly. Delthasia asked them why they were there, and they told her they were actively seeking out the assassin. The woman was named after a month in autumn, when she was born. Delthasia stood aside and bid them proceed. 

Ena showed them to a hidden staircase that descended into the bowels of Mount Gryphon. Spark lit a lantern. They followed the gloomy, creaky steps until they reached an eerie room swathed in darkness. 

Racks of knives and other weapons lined one wall. Vials of poisons lined another. In the center of the room was a table, and on that table a list. Tiger walked over and plucked up the list. 

"Tanathyn, Asrian, Palevar, Gillestia, Jeskel, Seline, Ellenor, Filyrnae, Tanthalas, Palas, Taliro." The others crowded near, protecting each other. "All those names have been crossed out. Arsathia, Palanthas, Tanathas, Jestiril, Stralantha, Paludar, Paltharan, Spark, Delthasia, Memarra." 

"This is a list of planned victims," whispered Arsathia. "And I'm next." 

"According to this preferable order," noted Tiger. "But the ones already taken are out of order. Tanthalas was third to die, and he's far down on the list." 

"Perhaps his wasn't planned, but an opportunity arose," suggested Arsathia. 

"The assassin in hiding in a hallway just beyond that bookshelf," Ena told them. 

"Why is Memarra on this list?" wondered Tiger, laying down the parchment. 

A sleek figure clad in shadow slipped into the room, its tread making no sound as it moved. Then it stopped before the frozen companions. Only then did they realize the terrible danger they had placed themselves in. 

* * *

**Twelfth Stone**

"So," whispered a voice. "You have finally found me. I was wondering how long it would take you."

"Who are you?" snarled Tiger. 

"You know me, Paltharan." The voice took on a faintly feminine tone. "I am your friend." 

"Liar! What friend of mine slays my kin and plots to slay me as well? It's true then. You desire to be Duke of Gryphonshire." 

"I will never be Duke of Gryphonshire, Tiger." The shadow laughed hideously. "I will be Duchess of Gryphonshire." 

"Duchess," hissed Tiger. "You cannot be anything if you are dead." 

As if flickering, the figure reached out and grasped a knife. Sinister, the blade glistened of poison. "And who will slay me, kitten?" She threw the dagger-at Arsathia. 

"No!" screamed Spark, leaping in front of his cousin and taking the wound himself. He writhed in agony for a brief moment, then was still. The lantern sputtered and went out. 

The twelfth stone fell in a cloud of dust. 

Tiger raced toward the minion of darkness, but the shadows hid her from his sight, and she was gone. "Murderer! Assassin!" shouted Tiger blindly at the fleeing villain. 

A light flared in the darkness, and grew brighter and brighter as Ena called forth a bit of her own magic to relight Spark's lantern. "There is still hope, Tiger," she told him. "We have to go on." 

Tiger calmed himself and activated his magic, contacting the spirit of Spark. 

_Tiger, Tiger, my friend and my brother. Now I must tell you in death what I could not in life. That is why she didn't want to kill me sooner. She wanted to kill Arsathia, but this has disrupted her plans. The assassin's name is-_

A splash of water, and the contact was broken. "What happened?" demanded Tiger. 

"I don't know," Ena answered from the blackness. "I'll try to relight it." 

"Let's take him outside, Tiger," suggested Arsathia. "She may be able to douse our lantern, but she cannot douse the light of day." 

Reluctantly, a tiny flicker of light appeared again. The magic of this peasant woman was strong, stronger than that of many kings. Arsathia lifted his feet and Tiger took his head and together they carried Spark up the stairs, Ena leading with her shining light. 

"Oh, my goodness," gasped Delthasia as they emerged from the darkness and stepped into the light. Ena slammed the door shut and pushed a table in front of it. 

"She doubtless has other ways out of her converted wine cellar," Arsathia remarked, "but that will at least keep her from appearing while Tiger does his magic." 

Looking into her eyes, he saw the wings of the gryphon, and knew that indeed there was hope. Then he turned to Spark and resumed the contact. 

_The assassin is Mystra Sadidah. The assassin is Mystra Sadidah! You must kill her, Tiger, before she completes her plans of annihilating our entire clan. You must, Tiger, you must. She is a creature of darkness who cares only for darkness and would gladly see darkness encompass the world. Do you accept, Paltharan? Will you kill Mystra Sadidah?_

"Yes, Spark. I would gladly slay her a thousand times over for what she has done to you and my clan. I will kill Mystra Sadidah. I swear it." 

"Mystra," gasped Delthasia. "She's the assassin?" 

Tiger nodded. "Do you where Memarra is?" 

"No, why?" 

"I think he's in on this," he informed her. "It's only speculation, however, and I won't know for certain until I speak with him." 

"I'll send someone to find him," Delthasia responded. She stepped outside and called some servants. 

"We can't go back down there," Tiger insisted. "She'd only take the opportunity to kill someone else." 

"Mystra has strong magic, dark magic," Ena explained. "That was what prevented us from fleeing when we knew she was there." 

"Is she down there now?" asked Arsathia. 

Ena concentrated for a moment. "No. She's left by some other way. That was once a wine cellar, you say?" 

Tiger nodded. "Apparently some of my ancestors liked wine, but had disapproving spouses, so they built secret entrances to the wine cellar." 

Arsathia snorted. "Men!" 

"Do you know where the other entrances are?" Ena asked Tiger. 

"Some, but probably not all." 

"We have to find them all," Ena told him, "and block them." 

* * *

**Thirteenth Stone**

There was a lull in activity, like the eye of the storm, when no stone fell. Ena, Tiger, and Arsathia squeezed the locations of the secret passages out of Tanathas and some of the servants, religiously blocking each one. They held the funeral for the twelve fallen Gryphons, reasoning that those they had already honored wouldn't mind being honored again. A month passed quietly, and many people truly came to believe that this was the end, and that they were safe, and no one else would die this year. Thus they planned for the Summer Festival with impunity.

Banners and bouquets, ribbons and roses, ivy and irises. There was no limit to the extravagance. On top of everything else, Paludar declared a poetry recital for that day, featuring poets from all across Gryphonshire, and one from as far away as Nurvelem. It promised to be the most fateful festival in the history of Krengin. 

Memarra had simply disappeared, so they assumed he'd fled while he still could. Yet Tiger suspected that the old wolf was sticking with his cub. 

"Has Mystra come out yet?" Tiger asked Ena quietly. 

"Yes. I think Memarra must have unblocked the door in Delthasia's chamber," Ena suggested. She cocked her head, seeming to listen. "She's coming this way, slowly. Going around into the trees. No, she's going to the cemetery." 

"The cemetery?" Tiger asked, alarmed. "What would she be doing in the cemetery?" 

"I don't know, but it can't be anything good." 

"I have a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling." 

Arsathia appeared and shoved something sickly sweet in Tiger's face. "Have a-whatever it is." 

"Mystra's in the cemetery," he told her. 

"The cemetery?" wondered Arsathia, furrowing her forehead. 

"Oh, no," moaned Ena. 

"What is it?" asked Tiger. 

"Another evil person has come into range. I can't sense either one now." 

Tiger scratched his head, puzzled at how the assassin had managed to short-circuit Ena's talent. "Let's head toward the cemetery. That was where her last known location was. We may be able to catch her." 

"Are you completely insane?" cried Arsathia. "We'd be walking off a cliff blindfolded, you ninny! Absolutely not!" 

"Would you rather just stand here and listen to poetry while Paludar Gryphon gets assassinated?" Tiger pointed out. 

She thought about that for a moment, then replied, "Yes, actually I would. The guy's a jerk anyway. Who's this?" 

A skinny man stepped up to the podium and, without preamble, began reciting a poem. "On wings the world is ruled," he intoned. "In those clear colorless heavens." 

The roaring of the crowd dwindled to almost silence as they listened to the anonymous poet's verses. "He's good," whispered Arsathia. "He really is." 

Tiger nodded gravely, unable to keep his eyes from straying to the shadows, nervously searching for any sign of Mystra Sadidah. 

A new speaker came up to the podium. "Fire, fire and storm," he recited. "Fire, fiery storm." 

"I don't care what you say, Arsathia," Tiger told her. "I'm going anyway." 

"It's suicide, Tiger!" hissed the woman. "You can't do it! You can't go!" 

"Yes, I can, and I will." 

"Then we're going with you," Arsathia insisted. "You can't be stupid enough to go alone, at least. Three will stand a much better chance than one." 

Tiger nodded, greatly appreciating their support, even though it came almost too late to be of much help. Someone announced Dana Anjella to sing a ballad whose haunting lyrics drifted out over the garden like blood-red leaves on the summer breeze. 

The three wove their way through the crowd and circled around behind the podium. They entered the trees, thus crossing the threshold into darkness, into death. Ahead lay the cemetery, twelve fresh stones standing before countless weathered ones. A pair of shadows seemed to dance in some perverted form of worship above the newest grave. Spark's grave had been filled in during the funeral, but now fresh dirt lay strewn about the grass, and his grave lay empty. 

"Anerreshar protect me," gasped Arsathia. 

"No, no, not Spark," whispered Paltharan in a desperate plea that the truth not be true. 

Then the shadows ceased their dance and turned toward the three, and beyond them toward the gathered innocents, and their next victim, Paludar. 

"Spark!" cried Tiger. "Spark, hear me!" 

And Spark heard him. One of the figures turned to face him, and took down his hood. His purple irises glowed with an unnatural life, his eyes empty and yet aflame with a terrible fire. "Stand aside, kinsman, lest I slay you." 

For Tiger this was the greatest horror yet. "No, Spark, no!" He screamed and embraced his brother, willing the past to be different, as if wishing so could make it so. Then Tiger came to a sudden and startling realization: he could do nothing to change the past, but he could change the future. 

Tiger stepped back from the shadowy figure that had once been his cousin, and drew his sword. "I deplore what I must do, Spark. I'm sorry." 

He swung the sword. 

"Tiger, no!" cried Arsathia. "The assassin is approaching Paludar!" 

The impact of the blow was like that of a thousand javelins all being thrown at once. Both Spark and Tiger felt the death of the duke, and Spark was flung backwards into his grave, Tiger's sword protruding from his midsection. 

The twelfth stone was righted, yet turned to the darkness, and the thirteenth stone fell. 

* * *

**Fourteenth Stone**

Spark stirred and stood, and removed the blade from his body.

"I'm sorry, too, Tiger," whispered the creature that had once been Spark. "I didn't want this to happen, but Mystra beguiled me and convinced me to turn to darkness. I didn't want to. No, no, I never wanted to. I would never have turned to the darkness. Never." 

As Spark rattled on, Tiger felt an almost incomprehensible pity for him. "It's not too late, Spark. Refuse the darkness, kinsman. Embrace the light." 

"I died to help you. I live now because I wanted to help myself." 

"You live, Spark," Tiger said, tears stinging his eyes. "Live now to help us. Help us stop Mystra before she kills again." 

"Her hunger is terrible, yet insatiable. She will never stop killing so long as she retains her head, even though her mind was lost long ago, and her soul given to Kumochru." 

"Who is next, Spark, so that we may protect him?" Tiger asked. 

Spark looked him in the eyes, his eyes filled with a deeper sorrow than Tiger knew was possible in him. "You are, brother. You're next." 

"I can protect myself," he said, suddenly unsure of himself. 

"I'll protect you, Tiger," Arsathia promised. 

"As will I," Ena vowed. 

"And I," Spark told him. 

Their commitment touched Tiger to the core of his being, that these people of utterly different backgrounds would be willing to give everything they had left to help him, to protect him, so that he might live. Arsathia was a servant of Anerreshar, the gryphon goddess. Spark was the bastard son of Ellenor. Ena was a peasant woman whose magic had proven stronger than their own. 

Hope was reborn, and the light of the fire glowed again, defying the darkness even as it had seemed to give in. 

"We're all in this together," Arsathia added. 

A scream broke the rumbling of the seething crowds. The fourteenth stone fell crashing to the earth, while the seven remaining stood stubbornly proud. 

"Who was it?" asked Tiger. 

"Jestiril," whispered Arsathia. "My brother. My last brother." 

"I thought I was next," Tiger wondered. 

"You were," Spark told him. "Mystra Sadidah has clearly had a change of plans." The clouds gathered thick, obscuring the sky with a sudden summer storm. Spark looked panicked and cried, "We have to get inside! If I get too wet I'm done for!" 

Four pairs of feet lightly touched the grass and raced to the nearest door into the Gryphon house. But the door was locked. 

"Do you have the key?" asked Spark hurriedly. 

Tiger nodded, then fumbled around in his pouches for the key. After several excruciating moments, his strong fingers grasped the bit of metal. He plunged the key into the doorknob and twisted it, the door flying out and the four flying in. Arsathia slammed the door shut. 

"Well, this is a beautiful mess you've gotten us into, hotshot," grumbled his cousin. "Any more bright ideas, male?" 

Coming from Arsathia, even a statement of his gender sounded like an insult. She shoved the other three into room no bigger than a closet and pulled that door shut as well. It must have been a closet, since there were coats and other things typical of closets in there. 

"Can you sense the assassin now, Ena?" asked Tiger. 

"No, not really," she admitted dolefully. "Spark's evil is overpowering my senses. I can't see beyond him." 

"Spark, won't you just give up the evil?" pleaded Tiger. 

"I want to, but I can't now," he said sheepishly. 

"Why?" wondered the boy. 

Spark's eyes were bright as flames. "Kumochru has given me immortality in exchange for my service to him. If I refuse to serve him now, he will give me a horrible death and an eternity of suffering." 

Tiger would not press him further, afraid that his statements of the truth would be taken the wrong way. But Arsathia held no such restraint. "Spark, if you really cared about Tiger and us and how all this turns out, then you wouldn't care what became of you if you knew you were helping us." 

Neither Spark nor Tiger knew this, but Arsathia was silently praying to her beloved gryphon goddess, Anerreshar. She was praying for Spark's life. Anerreshar was a good goddess, and was also willing to grant life to someone, even male, because one of her devoted worshippers asked her for it. 

"Alright," Spark said finally. He then intoned in a loud and clear voice, "Kumochru, I renounce you! I reject your petty offerings of life and riches! I will serve you no longer, and I will do anything in my power to hinder those who do! You are to me an abhorred enemy!" 

Spark's body suddenly went stiff, and he let out a terrible scream. But then a golden glow surrounded him, and he relaxed, his eyes filling with an indescribable peace. He then knew who had granted him this gift, the gift of renewed life, and thanked Anerreshar, pledging his undying service to her. Then he thanked Arsathia. 

"Mystra is approaching the door," Ena suddenly told them. 

The battle had been won, but the war was far from over. 

* * *

**Fifteenth Stone**

Dana Anjella moved more or less stealthily through the jungle of the Gryphons' garden, her short sword wielded inexpertly. Jestiril had been her friend, and his death infuriated her to irrationality. She saw the shadow lord ahead, approaching the door to the house. Dana screamed a challenge and charged.

The assassin threw a knife, but missed. Howling insanely, Dana waved her sword in the air before its face. "Murderer! Assassin! Prepare to die, honorless scum!" 

Mystra Sadidah folded her arms to her chest and waited for Dana to figure out how to use that sword. Finally the woman decided which end she was supposed to hold and plunged the blade in the general area of the killer's chest. Pulling her sword free, Dana watched in morbid detachment as the shadowy figure slumped to the ground. 

"That's what you get for killing my friends," she told the motionless form. Creaking on its hinges, the door opened just as the rain ceased. A youth with striped hair and purple flowers stepped outside, followed by other mismatched figures. 

To their horror, the dark shape stirred and stood. Dana Anjella's jaw dropped. Her hand went limp, sword falling to the mucky ground. Then she ran screaming from the estate and didn't stop till she reached Siller. 

"Did what I just saw really happen?" whispered Tiger. 

"Stralantha," the assassin told them simply, then she vanished into the gloom beneath the young, green trees. 

Drawing his sword, Tiger rushed to catch her, to prevent her from slaying another of his cousins, but Arsathia stopped him. "You can't catch her, Tiger. Not yet. Besides, you can't even find her without Ena." 

Paltharan found himself more grateful to the peasant woman than he was willing to admit, so instead he asked, "Will you marry me?" 

Needless to say, everyone was surprised at the sudden question. Though a thousand protests and comments were burning in each of their minds, they spoke none of them. Finally, Ena smiled, almost laughing, and told him, "Yes." 

Spark shrugged. He had no problem with that. Arsathia merely wished her well. 

Another scream broke the air, and the fifteenth stone plunged to the earth. 

"We can hold the wedding a year or so from now," Arsathia pointed out. "But now we have an assassin to stop." 

"Arsathia's right," Spark added. "This has gone on far too long." 

"Tanathyn spoke a prophecy when I contacted his spirit last winter," Tiger told them. "That nineteen Gryphons would die, and that I would be the last of my line. But that is the future, and the future hasn't happened yet, so we can make the prophecy wrong. What has been holding us back is the belief that is has to be true, that there is nothing we can do about it. That was wrong. We can do something about it. We can stop the prophecy from coming true. And we will!" 

This was the single rallying cry that they needed. Four stones glow and support each other, the fallen stones giving them strength. One stone flies alone on wings of darkness. 

"United we stand," Arsathia remarked. "Divided we fall." 

"Let us unite those that still stand while we still can," Spark said. 

They marched down the dark pathway, afraid apart, fearless together. Blue lightning ripped across the sky, its erratic light doing little to illuminate their way. Night had fallen unnaturally, and now a winged shadow darker than the others flitted toward them. 

"Foolish mortals!" screeched Mystra, a jolt of devastating energy zapping from her fingertips and striking Arsathia full on. 

"Arsathia! No!" shouted Tiger, falling to his knees before his fallen cousin, as if he could pick her up and all would be well. 

"I'm all right," she coughed. "That was just a demonstration of her power. She doesn't want to kill us yet. Time is on her side." 

"What is that goddess of yours?" he asked her quietly. 

"Anerreshar," she told him. "Why?" 

"Are her devotees only female, or do men worship her too?" 

"Sometimes, but rarely. She's the feminist goddess." 

"You know what," Spark commented. "I think it's a good time to run." 

They looked to the sky, where Mystra was charging for another bolt, this one promising to be fatal. "You know, Spark, I rather agree with you," admitted Tiger. 

With an inperturbable calm brought on by the continual seige on their emotions, they hurried over to the stables and grabbed horses, setting off at a gallop down the road to the nearest town, Kurig. Winged Mystra seemed to cackle in the dust of their passage. 

* * *

**Sixteenth Stone**

On and on they rode, and early in their journey they felt the chill that meant another had died in the wake of their passage. "This can't go on forever," Tiger moaned. From enthusiastic optimism, he had gone to suicidal depression in the space of an instant.

"No, Tiger, don't act like this," Arsathia scolded him. "It will do no good, and serve only evil." She had become very conscious of such things recently. "Now listen here, Tiger, my friend. We are going to go to Kanath, like we were planning to in the first place. We are going to stay there until Mystra comes after us, then we will lure her into our trap and kill her." 

"But what about the people left at the estate?" protested Tiger. 

Arsathia sighed. "We had our chance to save them, but we missed it." 

"What was our chance?" wondered the boy. 

She didn't bother dignifying that with an answer. "I'm sorry," groaned Spark. "For everything." 

"It wasn't your fault, kinsman," Tiger comforted him. "You couldn't have done any more than you did. Things turned out better than they otherwise would." 

"Not so. I could have done plenty, but I chose not to." 

Tiger chose to share what he had learned from Spark, though Spark had not known he had taught it. "You cannot change the past, brother. We have only the present. Now we must shape the future as we envision it to be. We must dream high and aim high. Thus we may create a better world by bettering ourselves." 

"Where did you learn this?" asked Spark. 

"From you," Tiger told him. 

"Thank you, Tiger," Spark said. "You don't know how much this means to me." In his life he had all too often been rejected, even by those he considered his friends. Now, when their world was falling apart, he learned acceptance, and decided once and for all never to put others through what he had gone through himself. 

The four continued on, often riding into the night. They took pity on their horses by exchanging them at every stop. Their goal was to place enough distance between themselves and the assassin that she could not reach them without separating herself from those still at Gryphon Estate. She was forced to choose between them, and she chose to stay, so the travellers were safe. For now. 

Finally they spotted the great city of Kanath perched about a mountain fastness. They had crossed the Rhything at the ford Ena had told them about. There stood the castle of the kings and queens of Daneli, where they had chosen to build because of its view of neighboring Mount Gryphon, the tallest mountain in Krengin and third tallest in Daneli. 

Climbing the steep road took them much time and energy, but at last they reached the gates of Kanath. 

"Let us in!" called Arsathia to the guards. "We are in danger for our lives!" 

"We are Gryphons!" added Spark. 

The gates, which had been closed out of fear of the assassin, now swung wide and admitted the grateful travellers. 

"Halt," a guard told them. "Peasants are not allowed inside the City of Kings." 

"She's no peasant," argued Tiger. "She's my betrothed." 

"A thousand apologies, noble woman," he bowed his head to Ena, who was startled because no one had ever bowed to her before. 

Tiger, Spark, Ena, and Arsathia strode through the gilded gates to the gilded city. Kanath was an overly grand place, overshadowed by places where the gold paint was starting to peel off, revealing iron beneath. Here noble people lived worse than the commoner servants at Gryphon Estate. Arsathia approached a white-daisied girl washing laundry and asked how they might get to the palace from here. 

"Up that street," pointed the girl. "Turn left at the Temple of Anerreshar, go three streets down past the alchemist, turn right and go straight until you reach the statue of a guy on a horse, then go down the street between the weaponsmith and the Hunters' Guild. When you come to the Come On Inn, go on out and follow the yellow brick road to the jeweler's shop. Behind the jeweler's is a purple brick road leading directly to the palace." 

"Complicated," muttered Tiger, who had been lost since the Temple of Anerreshar. "Did you get all that?" 

"Yes, Tiger," replied Arsathia. "Unlike you, I have a very good memory." 

Their aimless wandering found the Temple, where Arsathia, Ena, and Spark wished to worship Anerreshar for a few hours. Tiger, finding nothing better to do, decided to join them, since Anerreshar had been very helpful recently and probably deserved his worship. 

When they reached the alchemist, Spark bought antidotes to Mystra's favorite poisons. Then he got an anti-magic potion that, when spilled across the ground, prevented anyone above it from using magic. An ice-cage potion completed the components for the trap. 

After more wandering, they found the horse statue and investigated the Hunters' Guild. This was not a place where people gathered to talk about shooting animals, however. The Hunters' Guild was an elite group of people who boasted that if they could not find it, it simply didn't exist. 

Reaching the Come On Inn, they went on in and didn't go on out until Ena and Arsathia finally managed to carry the men outside. They dragged them down the yellow brick road to the jeweler's shop, then borrowed a wagon to pull them up to the palace. 

"Three surviving Gryphons and one betrothed of a Gryphon to see King Kanath-Sol immediately," Arsathia told the guards. 

Too smart to argue with one who was likely next in line to be Duchess of Gryphonshire, the guards opened the gates and admitted the four into the Palace of Kanath-Sol. 

* * *

**Seventeenth Stone**

"I grant you sanctuary within these walls," King Kanath-Sol told them. "But I can grant you little else."

"Only six of the clan Gryphon remain alive," Tiger pointed out. "Two of my kin remain back the estate." 

"Tanathyn was first, wasn't he?" asked the king. "He was a prophet. Why did he not foresee his own death?" 

"Often people prefer not to look upon their own destruction," Arsathia mused. "And yet that willing blindness may be the cause." 

"Who is Duke of Gryphonshire now?" he inquired. 

"Frankly, I don't know," Tiger admitted. "Tanathas, if he still lives. If not, then Delthasia, Palanthas, or one of us." 

The king scratched his chin. "This is more serious than I thought. Very well, then. Is the assassin still at Gryphon Estate?" 

"Most likely," Ena replied. "I will be able to tell if she comes near." 

"She?" 

"Mystra Sadidah," Spark hissed, his words conveying a hatred that he no longer wished to feel. 

"Sadidah," muttered King Kanath-Sol. "What sort of backward clan would spawn such a creature of darkness? What father would fail to turn her from evil before it became too late? Do you know which god gave her her powers?" 

Spark nodded. "Kumochru." 

"Speak not that name too loudly, boy," he told him. "And be sure never to pronounce it correctly." 

Arsathia cut in, "How the god's name is pronounced is not important. That's only a superstition. His name can only hold power over you in you speak it in reverence, awe, or lust for power." 

"How is it that you know so much about an evil god?" asked the king, startled. 

"I am a priestess of Anerreshar. It is my business to know all I can about the gods." 

Tiger grabbed her cloak and pulled it open so that her neck was bared, revealing the red-eyed golden gryphon that marked her as a priestess of Anerreshar. "You never told me that," Tiger accused. "You never mentioned that little detail even once." 

"Did you ever think to ask, 'Are you a priestess of Anerreshar?' " 

Tiger sighed. "Women!" 

"You couldn't live without us and you know it," Arsathia told him. 

King Kanath-Sol asked, "Is it true that this evil god considers murder a form of worship, honored priestess?" 

"Yes, that is true. But he is the god of murder and poison, after all." 

"Figures," snorted Tiger. 

"We have a trap planned for her," Spark informed the king, "but it is gonna be dangerous. It involves these potions here." He handed him the two potions. 

"Anti-magic and ice-cage," read King Kanath-Sol. "Do you intend to trap her?" 

"No, not permanently. The potions won't last all that long. I intend to force her into a duel using only mundane weapons, since the anti-magic potion will nullify the special powers of any magical weapon. It will have to be a duel to the death." 

"Ah. So you seek her death." 

"But, Spark," argued Tiger. "When that Anjella killed her outside the estate, the assassin just came back to life." 

"Like I did, remember?" Spark pointed out. "You can kill her. You just have to cut off her head." 

Tiger mouthed the words, horrified yet not too horrified to go along with it. Ena shuddered at the very thought. She, like many worshippers of Anerreshar, had forsworn edged weapons. 

"All right. I accept that. I will do that if I have to." His eyes took on a distant look, as if contemplating the evil act he needed to perform, yet understanding that ridding the world of that priestess of Kumochru was no more evil than hanging a murderer or locking up a thief. 

King Kanath-Sol returned the potions to Spark. "I agree with your plan. I will arrange for the battle ring to be clear when she comes. The idiots have converted duels to public events people should pay to see. I've tried to put a stop to it, but there are those money-wolves who'd charge for air if they thought they could get away with it. They're irrepressible." 

"Thank you, Your Majesty," they said. 

"I can't help you any further, but I can wish you luck. May Nelias watch over you." 

The seventeenth stone stood strong, and would not fall. 

* * *

**Eighteenth Stone**

The waiting was excruciating for the four in Kanath, but nevertheless they waited.

At Gryphon Estate, one survivor was fighting for his life, and losing. 

Tanathas had been enraged at the death of his only son, Palanthas, and had refused to be beguiled by the assassin's sinister ways. He would not eat the poisoned food. Ever watchful, the door leading from his chamber to the wine cellar was blocked with a desk and two tables. His adrenalin caused him to forget food, and whenever he became too hungry to go on he conjured something or, if he was too weak, had someone conjure food for him. His sword never left his hand. 

The eighteenth stone crumbled to the earth without a struggle. 

He knew the moment Delthasia died, and called in a young servant. The man had gotten married not a year before, but had rarely seen his wife because of his duties at Gryphon Estate. 

"Ander Miclan?" he asked rhetorically. 

"Yes, sir," confirmed the man. 

"I want you to ride to Kanath, where the others are staying. Show the guards this message and they'll let you in. Tell them that Paltharan Gryphon is my heir, then Arsathia, then Spark. If none of them still live when you reach the gates of Kanath, then Filyrnae Lamavy will become duchess. Then you are released from the service of the clan Gryphon. Go home, Ander. Have many children and live a happy life. Good-bye." 

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. And good luck," Ander departed swiftly, his heart aflame. 

Tanathas stared out the window, the door swinging silently shut behind him. He gazed at verdant trees without really seeing them, listened to the sweet singing of birds without really hearing it. His life, his clan, had fallen around him, his world has collapsed. Was there truly anything left for him to live for? He reached for the knife- 

A note so pure as to shake the foundations of the mountain pierced the air and pulled Tanathas's gaze to the sky. Soaring upon the winds of summer, a golden creature, more beautiful than he had ever imagined possible, flew down from the peak of the mountain. "Gryphon!" he gasped, falling to his knees before the magnificent beast. Its eyes blue as sapphire, the gryphon danced for long moments in the highland sky, filling Tanathas with thoughts of Tiger, Arsathia, and Spark. They still lived, he knew, and so would he. So long as one gryphon was left alive, the clan Gryphon would not die! 

Tanathas dropped the knife and put away his thoughts of suicide. He suddenly realized that he was starving and conjured a loaf of bread. Making sure the doors were secure, the Duke of Gryphonshire ate his half-baked bread. He had never been able to conjure very good food, but he relaxed, knowing now that he would have centuries more to get it right. 

"Thank you, Anerreshar," he whispered, giving his thanks to a god he had never before been thankful to. "For bringing me back from the edge, and showing me what I have to live for." 

Outside, Mystra Sadidah shrieked, knowing that she had lost another battle, and knowing that the war was not going quite how she had envisioned it. Howling madly, she struck blindly at foliage, lashing out at the nearby trees, stomping on the flowers and grass. It was decidedly the most spectacular temper-tantrum Krengin had ever had the misfortune of seeing. 

Raging and fuming, the assassin vented her anger by creating an instant thunderstorm. In the unnatural darkness she was able to assume her wings, whereby she flew westward, stormclouds trailing, to bring down her wrath upon those who had slipped from her grasp. The traitor, the peasant, the kitten, and the feminist. What a motley group they were, yet they always tried and often succeeded in thwarting her. 

Revenge burned in Mystra's terrible eyes. 

* * *

**Ninteenth Stone**

"She's coming," Ena suddenly told them.

They knew this moment would come, and dreaded it even as they anticipated it. "Let's get going, then," Tiger said. "Arsathia, tell His Majesty that she's coming." 

She nodded and slipped out of the room. The other three left the palace and asked the guards to take them as quickly as possible to the battle ring, orders of the king. This time it was easier to get from one part of town to another, especially considering that the palace and the battle ring were right next to each other. 

Another contingent of guards had arrived just before they did, Arsathia with them. "Clear it out. Move it," the guards ordered the swarming masses. "Orders of the king! Clear the battle-ring!" 

Protesting, the collective seeped out of the arena like water from a strainer, leaving only the guards and the Gryphons. 

"Go on, now," Tiger told the guards. "There's nothing more you can do. We have to handle this ourselves." 

Reluctantly, the dozen guards sifted out of the battle-ring and vanished. Spark handed the ice-cage potion to Arsathia and the antidotes to Tiger. 

"They're in shatter-proof bottles," assured Spark. "Put the ones that cure the most deadly poisons in front." 

As Tiger did so, Ena reported on Mystra's progress through the city. She had doffed her wings in favor of intimidating the locals, so she was marching through the streets of Kanath completely unhindered. 

"She's doing this to torture us," muttered Tiger. 

"Yes," agreed Arsathia gravely. "She is." 

"How will the anti-magic potion affect the antidotes and the ice-cage potion?" asked Tiger. 

"The anti-magic potion prevents people from using magic, such as spells, and from any god from interfering with the duel. This will be you versus the assassin, not a battle between two gods. The potions will work, though, because their magic is permanently sealed to the liquid, and the anti-magic potion would not be able to counter them without countering itself." 

"I think I begin to understand," Tiger shook his head, clearing his mind of the technical explanation. He had a duel to prepare for. "What will happen if I lose?" 

"I will give my life to Anerreshar," Arsathia told him, "so that she may end the life of Mystra Sadidah." A life for a life, both of equal value to their respective gods. 

"I will not lose," vowed Tiger. "Even if it costs me my own life, I will not leave that ring until she who has slain so many of my kin lies dead!" 

The nineteenth stone stood strong, willing to give herself so that the black stone would fall as well. 

"She has reached the Come On Inn," Ena told them. 

Spark and Arsathia handed their potions to Tiger, who moved to the center of the ring. He would have to detonate them himself. Spark had found a wizard at the palace who was good at charms, and asked for a spreading charm to be placed on the two potions. This would make the potions very thin, and thus last a briefer amount of time, but would assure that nowhere in the ring would Mystra be able to cast any spell. 

"She has reached the jeweler's shop." 

Tiger readied the potions, preparing to hurl them crashing into the ground when Mystra was inside the ring. Arsathia, Spark, and Ena hid in the shadowy doorway of an abandoned building. Silently, Arsathia prayed to Anerreshar to protect Spark and Ena, and Spark and Ena prayed to the same goddess to protect Arsathia. They all knew that praying for Tiger was a wasted effort. He was beyond their help now, in the battle-ring. 

"She's here." 

Mystra Sadidah entered the ring, facing Tiger and not seeing the others. "Ah. The kitten," hissed the assassin. "I have the pleasure of destroying you today. How very appropriate, since Tanathas has named you as his heir." 

She strode into the ring until Tiger deemed her far enough in that escape was impossible. He threw the potions against the ground, their liquids spreading out in a widening disc to encompass the entire ring. Mystra's shadowy cloak fell from her, leaving her as helpless as Tiger. She attempted to flee the trap, but the ice-cage formed a transparent dome above the ring, enclosing the two mortal enemies. 

"So this is how you want to play," Mystra snarled. "Very well, then. Defend yourself." 

* * *

**Final Stone**

Mystra drew a dark blade and flung herself at Tiger, but he easily parried her stroke with his bright blade.

Back at Gryphon Estate, Tanathas felt that the assassin had left, so he located a crystal ball and told it to show him Tiger. Horrified, Tanathas watched as Mystra wounded his heir, only to have Tiger deliver a blow that would certainly have been fatal to any normal person. 

"Tiger, hang in there. You can do it. You know how," Tanathas whispered. "She has become used to fighting unarmed people. She will not know how to handle you." 

Thrust, parry, dodge, slice. Spark watched the battle with a morbid fascination. He, too, knew that this couldn't last forever. "Take her down!" he wanted to shout, but he succeeded only in whispering it. 

Yet Tiger heard. With a cry and a mighty stroke, he swung his blade through her neck even as her sword plunged into his heart. At that exact moment, both the anti-magic potion and the ice-cage spell dissipated. The three ran running toward Tiger. 

Spark pulled the blade from his motionless form. Abruptly, a lightning storm began, zapping Tiger again and again. Kumochru was doubtless infuriated by the slaying of his priestess. Arsathia, Ena, and Spark all begged Anerreshar to give Tiger his life back. And Anerreshar loved them too much to refuse. 

Tanathas watched from his chamber as his kinsman rose to stand triumphant, exulting in the lightning without being harmed. It was joy beyond any hope, at seeing Paltharan alive again, even through a crystal ball. He fell to his knees and wept for joy, alone and yet knowing that he need never be alone again. 

The black stone crumbled into dust, the five remaining stones too strong for her. The final stone fell, yet the other four righted him. 

Four victors returned to Gryphon Estate, planning a spectacular wedding between Tiger and the peasant woman Ena. Being only a peasant, she would be long dead before Tiger was in the prime of his life, yet they could still love each other with all their hearts before Ena joined Anerreshar. 

Never again could they truly forget that one person had brought an entire clan to its knees, but they knew inexplicably that they were stronger for it. Secret passages were banned from such houses, and accurate records were kept of who was at the estate. Foods were checked for poison before they were eaten. Doors were enspelled to squeak, waking the occupant of a room and alerting him to the entry. 

Tiger's firstborn was a girl who he named Ensathia. Spark married the Princess of Daneli, Ferenex Kanath-Sol, though it was virtually unheard of for a princess of her rank to marry a bastard. Many children were born and raised in the silent halls of Gryphon Estate, restoring the clan Gryphon to its former glory. They named the children in honor of the fallen Gryphons: Athrian, Talathras, Gilanna, Xenestia, and many others. 

The seasons became years, and the years became decades. Ena was buried with honor in the Gryphon cemetery. 

The final stone was placed.


End file.
